


Outcast

by BlaCkreed4



Series: Maritombola 2020 [16]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Abandonment, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Death Threats, Exhibitionism, Fights, Happy Ending, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Public Humiliation, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaCkreed4/pseuds/BlaCkreed4
Summary: Victor is the new tribe's chief, but Logan doesn't like his ways. There's only one solution: challenging him for the role.
Relationships: Logan/Kurt Wagner, Victor Creed/Logan
Series: Maritombola 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054895
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Outcast

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Lande di Fandom's:  
> -Maritombola, prompt: 61 - "You did well, [hero], but I win anyway"  
> -Explorers, prompts: forest, shouting, one character in common in all of my team's fics (We chose my girl Rosiwyse, my grumpy gnome artificier <3)

Deep down Logan knew that things were escalating. Badly.

Victor had never been subtle about his violent tendencies, but hell, they were a nomadic tribe who survived off of hunting and trading, it wasn’t strange for the more aggressive people to become hunters; he was one himself, after all.

The problem was, Victor had started challenging the chief’s decisions, insisting that trading was a waste of resources and that the best course of action should be just raid villages and take whatever they wanted.

The chief had punished him again and again, but the more he did the more Victor grew aggressive and challenged him; he even managed to gather a group of followers.

Logan had tried to make him reason, being his boyfriend meant he was the one who knew him better than anyone else, but they always ended up arguing and resenting each other.

Logan couldn’t say he didn’t see it coming: one day Victor challenged the chief for his role. The half-dwarf sighed and shook his head, expecting his boyfriend to have his ass handed to him as usual, but he was so wrong: somehow Victor had become strong enough to kill the chief.

From that moment things had gone haywire: he stopped all the trading and started raiding instead, spreading blood and violence wherever they went.

Logan had tried to tone him down, refusing to partecipate, arguing with him and even begging him at some point, all in vain.

He was left with no other choice: challenge him for the role of chief of the tribe to salvage whatever he could.

He had never feared Victor, but the way the half-orc had looked at him had made a cold shiver run down his spine. It was a mix of betrayal, anger, even hate. Logan had never seen him so intimidating before.

Victor hadn’t backed down of course. He had gathered every fighter and guided them all inside the forest, far from their camp.

He had chosen a clearing that was wide enough, then he had told Logan to bring it on as the others created a circle around them.

“You’ll regret this, Logan,” Victor growled.

“You left me no choice, Vic,” Logan replied.

They got in position, weapons ready, muscles tense, adrenaline pumping through their veins as they let their inner rage paint their vision red.

They shouted and charged, their swords clashing with a thunderous noise. They pushed against each other, none of them gaining even a millimetre over the other.

They roared when they broke their standstill, slashing and lunging, but never hitting; they had always trained together, they knew each other’s moves too well, they had always been equals in that.

They were soon covered in sweat and panting, while everyone else watched with apprehension at what was going to be a long fight.

After many minutes of almost mirrored movements, the first blood was spilled: Victor managed to break through Logan’s defence and scrape his arm.

The latter hissed and growled, checking himself and panting. When he looked back at his opponent he saw him grin, he saw the evil spark in his eyes, the bloodlust and craving for violence. He roared and attacked again, with even more fury.

More blood was spilled on the ground by both of them, spraying on the grass under their feet and on their skin, painting an already red world in more red.

Minutes passed, but none of them gave up or backed down, fighting through their exhaustion as well as against each other. It had become a battle of will and endurance more than sheer strength, and it wasn’t going to end well for any of them.

They were covered in cuts and bruises by the time Victor managed to trip Logan on the ground and overtop him, pinning him there with his blade against his neck; for good measure he even blocked Logan’s wrist holding his sword beside his head.

“You did well, Logan, but I win anyway,” the half-orc panted, smirking in amusement at his boyfriend’s weak struggle.

“Then kill me, it’s your favourite thing to do, ain’t it?” Logan growled, defiance written all over his face.

“Yeah, well, there’s another thing _you_ love too,” Victor purred.

He leaned down and shifted his weight, making his boyfriend feel his hard-on through his loincloth.

"You know, I can still forgive you if you become my bitch."

"Fuck you! I ain't nobody's bitch!"

Logan struggled harder, but he had to stop when Victor pressed his sword against his neck.

"What a pity. I wanted you by my side, but you ain't worth it."

The half-orc hit the other's head with the hilt of his sword to stun him, then he threw away Logan's sword and turned him around. He cut the half-dwarf's loincloth to get easier access to his ass, then he threw his own sword away. He pinned him down by the neck when he felt him resume his struggling.

"I'll make an example out of you," he growled in Logan's ear before straightening up. "Look, everyone! _This_ is what happens to anyone challengin' me! Look closely, and remember this! _No one_ will be spared, not even my partner.”

He made eye contact with everyone around, satisfied by the way they submissively looked down.

He forced Logan to spread his legs, then he undid his belt to get rid of his own loincloth. He spit on his hand to lube himself up, then he pushed against the other’s hole.

The half-dwarf did his best to prevent him from raping him in front of most of the tribe, to avoid that kind of humiliation, but he couldn’t stop him; Victor punched him in his side, forcing him to gasp in pain.

They both grunted when the half-orc penetrated him, thrusting hard to get completely inside.

“I’ll kill you for this,” Logan hissed, glaring at his former boyfriend.

“Not if I kill you first, runt.”

Logan opened his mouth to insult the other, but all that came out was a painful moan as he was fucked roughly and hard.

The clearing was filled by the two men’s grunts and moans and panting, some of the other fighters looking away in embarrassment and shame while Victor’s most loyal followers silently jerked off to the violence.

Logan cursed and insulted Victor every time he felt like he could control his voice, often ending up groaning in pain for some of the stronger thrusts. His hands were scratching the ground underneath him, leaving many marks in the middle of the grass and filling his short nails with dirt. He didn’t have the courage to look up, too ashamed to face his mates that were now witnessing the biggest humiliation of his life.

Victor had always like talking dirty to his lover, but that time it wasn’t appreciated, on the contrary, it only fuelled Logan’s shame. And he loved it more for it. His thrusts were growing more frantic as he approached his orgasm, pleasure coursing through him like a lightning bolt every time the half-dwarf clenched around him or whimpered.

Most of the men jerking off were coming by that point, sighing or moaning softly in order not to disturb their leader.

When Victor reached his climax he almost roared, unloading as deep as he could inside Logan; that prompted the remaining men to come too, way more quietly than the half-orc.

Silence fell again in the clearing, interrupted only by men catching their breath.

Both Logan and Victor felt the rage fade, letting them feel every bruise and every cut, their muscles burning for the exertion as well as the tiredness.

The winner pulled out and sat on his heels between the other’s legs, smirking in amusement when some of his cum dripped out of Logan’s abused hole. He put his loincloth back on, taking out a knife and carving the loser’s back with it.

“Weakest of the tribe,” he said out loud while the other screamed in pain.

He cut Logan some more, arms and legs and even his ass, satisfied only when he was covered in bloody marks.

By the time he was done the half-dwarf was too weakened, too much in pain to even move, his body barely shaking with sobs and whimpers.

Victor stood up and kicked him on the side just for fun, retrieving both of their swords and hanging them to his belt.

“Have fun with the scavengers, runt. They’ll be very happy to find you.”

He barked some orders to his men, then they all walked back to their camp.

Logan was left alone with his pain and his shame, drifting in and out of consciousness as fever coursed through his body, making him sweat and shiver at the same time.

He had just fainted again when he was awakened by the cold touch of metal and an annoying female voice.

He grimaced when one of his eyes was forced open and a light almost blinded him; he groaned.

“Oh good, you’re still alive. I would have hated to waste time moving you and covering you up if you weren’t,” she said in a harsh tone.

“Who...?”

Logan’s question was cut off by a vial’s neck forced into his mouth; he tasted something grass-like and mineral, with a bitter aftertaste, that he was forced to swallow.

“My name’s Rosiwyse Delbi, I’m an alchemist. You’d better save your breath for the trip, I have to bring you back to the city, I can’t cure you here. My guild will help you,” she explained. “Brass, take him carefully, we’re going back.”

Logan was lifted by a pair of cold metallic arms, and he whimpered in pain when whoever took him started to walk.

“Don’t fall asleep,” the woman ordered. “I probably stopped you from bleeding to death, but you aren’t safe yet. If you fall asleep and die I’ll have wasted my potion and a lot of time, so you’ll have to bear with me annoying you all the way back home.”

Logan didn’t have the strength to talk, nor the lucidity to fully understand what was going on, but damn, she really was annoying, he just wanted to sleep and feel nothing for a bit!

In his dazed state he didn’t know how long they walked, he just knew he wasn’t in the forest anymore and he felt warmer air; he opened one eye a bit and he noticed he was inside a building, and his rescuer was talking to someone else.

“I need a healer! Who’s not on a mission?” she asked.

“Rosi, you _are_ a healer.”

Logan glanced towards the new voice and he noticed a bearded man with a mischievous grin.

“Well, I would have the time to take care of people if _someone_ would just stop promising potions to everyone!”

“I’m a cleric.”

That new voice was too far away for Logan to see its owner, but it had a strong foreign accent.

“Great! Welcome to the guild, I hope you’re good enough for this mess,” Rosiwyse said. “Amelia, which room is free right now? I’ll take it! Tank, give me a hand! I’ve got just a few more hours before dawn, I’m not going to waste the first clear full moon night in months, I need the Moonflower nectar for my potions!”

Logan groaned in complaint as he was passed from a pair of cold metal arms to another, all of his bruises and cuts hurting like hell.

“Don’t worry, mein Freund, I’ll heal you as best as I can.”

That change of position allowed Logan to finally see the cleric’s face and he managed to half-smirk.

“Hey, Elf. You’re gorgeous,” he croaked.

He heard his rescuer snort and acidly make a comment.

“He’s going to survive, he’s better already.”

The cleric chuckled.

“Wrong race, but thank you. My name is Kurt, now let’s heal you up, ja?”


End file.
